


Cat Person

by Enchant



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Cat Person, Cute, Day At The Beach, Fluff and Humor, Kink Meme, M/M, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Stupid Dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 03:33:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2295182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchant/pseuds/Enchant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from the kink_meme </p><p>"I just want something sweet and adorable, no bestiality. That involves Hawke's mabari or one he comes across in the Wounded Coast. Just something with the mabari liking Anders and Anders refusing to give in to its slobbery affection. At first anyway and then slowly warming up to it."</p><p>https://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/11381.html?thread=44726645#t44726645</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cat Person

Anders had always been a cat person. He liked how independent they were; he liked the fact that they didn’t really give a shit and did whatever the fuck they wanted. He admired them. They were also cute and fluffy and perfect for cuddling.

Dogs, on the other hand, were dependent on their owners, slobbered everywhere and were extremely loud thanks to their ceaseless barking. They weren’t cute, they weren’t nice to snuggle up with and they were a total pain in the ass.

So, of course, when he went out to the Wounded Coast to enjoy the sunshine and collect some herbs for the clinic he found himself extremely annoyed at the random mabari that had decided to follow him around.

“Go away,” he told it again. The stupid mutt inclined its head to the side and whined.

He sighed and carried on trudging through the sand. “I do not like dogs. Stop following me.”

The mabari’s pants followed him and then a wet nose pushed against his hand.

“Ugh!” He stopped and turned to face the dog again. “Whatever it is you want the answer is no. _N. O_. Do you understand me?”

The dog barked, its tongue hanging out of the side of its mouth.

He groaned and rubbed his face. “At least make yourself useful. I need more elfroot; do you see any around here?”

The dog panted at him.

“It looks like this.” Anders pulled out some elfroot he had picked earlier and the dog sniffed it. “Find me some more. Go on, off with you.”

The hound barked and then ran off; he sighed in relief, glad to be alone once more. He relaxed, listening to the waves breaking against the golden sands and the cries of gulls flying overhead. Things had been manic at the clinic all week; a new ship of refugees had come in, bringing a new sick bug with it. Half of Darktown had fallen ill to it and his herb supplies had all but vanished. He knew he could buy the necessary ingredients from the city but in truth he could use the fresh air. He needed to be alone with his thoughts, needed to feel the wind through his hair and the Sun on his face. He stared up at the fluffy white clouds, smiling broadly; it was such a lovely day. He so rarely got to just simply _enjoy_ being outside. Usually when he was outside it was on a job with Hawke and that _always_ involved fighting.

He had just forgotten about the stupid hound when he heard it barking from around the corner. He had half a mind to just ignore it and go back the way he came but the annoying healer in him wanted to make sure the dog was okay…and if there was a chance he _had_ found some elfroot Anders couldn’t really ignore it.

He reached the dog which was jumping up and down as it span in a circle. Anders sighed and approached and the hound stared at something on the ground. Anders glanced at the object and groaned.

“That is a boot. _One_ boot. It’s not even a whole boot, there’s a hole in it and the soles peeling away.” He glared at the still-barking dog. “What good is a tatty old boot to me?”

The dog barked again and Anders threw his arms into the air in frustration. “You’re giving me a headache.”

More barking.

Anders reached down and picked up the tattered, slightly soggy boot. _Perfect_. “Yes, well done. It’s lovely,” he drawled.

The dog barked happily.

Anders went to put the boot back on the sandy ground but the hound started growling so he sighed and shoved it in his pack.

“Happy now?”

The dog yapped and trotted down the path.

“You still haven’t found me any elfroot!” he called after the useless mutt. He rolled out his shoulders and then continued down the path.

He found the hound again not far away, frantically digging a hole in the sand. Anders stared and watched him for a few minutes. What was the point in this? _This_ is why he preferred cats; they never did anything unless it was necessary because they were built to conserve their energy in case they needed to suddenly expend it taking down prey. Dogs though, were constantly rushing around doing inane things for seemingly no reason at all.

The hound began to growl at the large hole he had dug, he got even angrier when one of the sides began to collapse and hurriedly began digging once more.

Anders rolled his eyes and strolled passed the hound. “I am going to find these herbs. You can help or you can bugger off, the choice is yours!”

There wasn’t much as he travelled down the winding path, a few tall grasses anchored between some rocks, a few mosses on those rocks and lots and lots of sand. It seemed like the area had been picked clean, which really wouldn’t have been surprising, half the vendors in the city had probably been out here desperately trying to top up their stocks thanks to the stomach bug.

He found himself glancing over his shoulder, looking to see if the hound was following him. It wasn’t. _Well good._ He would have peace and quiet at last. He peered through a couple or rocks to see if there were plants growing on the other side but there weren’t. _What a waste of a morning_. He could be at the clinic treating patients; instead he was out here doing a whole lot of nothing.

He ran a hand through his hair and wondered if the dog was still digging that hole of his. Perhaps there was something buried there? Would a dog dig just for fun? Surely there had to be a _reason_. There could be something important under the sand, something worth some gold even. If he found a trinket to sell he could buy the vendor’s herbs and that would mean this entire trip out here hadn’t been totally pointless.

With a slight groan he headed back up the path and found the dog, still digging, in the same spot. “Whaddaya got there then, boy?”

The dog yipped and continued to dig.

Anders rubbed the back of his head and then sighed before sinking to his knees. “This better be worth it…” he grumbled as he started to dig with the dog.

He had to admit, it _did_ feel nice running his hands through the soft sand. He’d never really been to the beach before but he had read stories about kids building sand castles and paddling in the waved waters of the sea, leaping over waves as they broke against the shore. As a thirty year old though all of that was just fiction to him really. He had to wonder feeling the looseness of the sand how anyone could build a damn thing with it. Even now the sides of the hole he was digging were continually collapsing. The dog carried on, completely determined and set on reaching the bottom or whatever was buried here.

The dog’s legs moved more frantically and he started barking in earnest; Anders hurried his own digging, shifting handfuls of sand every few seconds. Finally, his hands hit something and he dug around the edge of it as the hound panted happily. Anders grabbed the object and yanked it free of the sand.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he groused as he realised it was the boot’s pair. He glared at the dog. “I have sand under my nails and all over my clothes for _another_ tatty old boot?”

The dog barked unhappily.

(How he could tell the emotion behind each bark was beyond him.)

“Now I have a matching set of tatty boots. Just _great_ ,” he droned.

The dog licked his nose. It was quite impressive really; Anders couldn’t lick his own nose. He started trying to, only to lick his upper lip which had somehow become sandy with his rushed digging. He spat the sand out, groaning loudly. He dropped the boot into the sand too and the dog went mental, barking and leaping around him.

“Alright!” he wailed as he gathered up the boot again. The dog’s barking ceased and Anders plonked the second boot into his pack. “I’m serious, _no more boots._ I don’t have enough room in my pack to carry them.”

The dog tilted its head to the side and whined.

“Why do you want me to have these boots!?”

The dog barked and that time he had no idea what it meant.

“Look, I just need these herbs then I can go home. Don’t you have a home to get back to?”

The dog whimpered and nudged his pack.

“What?”

The dog nudged it harder and Anders opened it to stare at the boots. “These?”

The dog barked his affirmation.

“They were your owners?”

It barked again a little more sadly.

“What… what happened to him?” _Oh like a dog can tell me that_!

The dog whined some more and then flopped to the ground and laid very still, it’s tongue hanging out of its mouth.

Anders deflated. “They died.”

The dog snorted as it nodded its head and then it got back to its feet and sat on its haunches watching him.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Boy.” He rose to his feet, clearing his throat. “Well… I’m off.” He strode away and the hound whined from behind him. He cursed as he looked over his shoulder. The dog had moved forward to sit at his heels and he was staring up at him with big brown eyes. He was _literally_ giving Anders puppy eyes.

He groaned. “I have to go, there clearly aren’t any herbs out here and I have work to do.”

The dog whimpered.

Anders ran a hand up his face. “Fine. Fine, you can come with me.” The dog started bounding around barking merrily. “But no barking, no slobber and no pooping! I am not your owner nor will I ever be and I will not stand for it.”

The dog let out a snort and then strutted down the path.

If he didn’t know any better he’d think he just offended the dog.

With a shake of his head he followed after it.

**...**

 

 

Okay, so apparently the dog _was_ pissed off with him he had disappeared out of sight and Anders found himself actually searching for the stupid animal. He could literally just leave and go home, back to Fenris’ mansion or to his clinic, instead he was rushing down sandy paths wanting to apologise to a _dog._

He rushed around a rocky bend and came face-to-face with three, very angry looking, Tal-Vashoth; he let out a yelp and backed away from them. They snarled at him and drew their weapons as he pulled the staff off of his back.

“Bas Saarebas!” they all growled.

“Guilty!” he yelled as he sent a bolt of lightning into the first’s face, making him snarl. The other two charged and Anders leapt back, throwing down a glyph to slow one as he ducked under the other’s sword. The one he’d hit with a bolt was on him, recovered from his daze, both of them pressing him up the path. He tossed a fire ball at them and the one he’d hit with lightning fell to the floor with a scream. He brought his staff up to block the next attack, his arm vibrating from the force of the blow, and then used mind blast. His glyph wore off and he soon had two attacking him again, his spells barely affected them and they were too damn fast and too damn close for him to properly attack. He sent another bolt of electricity at them but they only staggered before rushing forward again, snarling and growling with rage.

 “Would you just die already!” he cried as he threw up a wall of ice.

Their weapons smashed down on it and he turned and broke into a run. He could hear the wall of ice shatter behind him and the angry stomps as the horn-heads chased after him.

He scrambled up a path just as the beasties came into view, suddenly there was a shadow leaping over him and a snarl followed by a loud thud and several cries. Anders turned to see the mabari savaging the neck of one of the Tal-Vashoth, the second horn-head lifted his blade but Anders ran forward protectively and hit him with a blast of magic, sending him flying back into the sand. He hurled a fireball next and finally the brute stayed down.

He wiped his brow and started to laugh; that had been far too close for his liking. The dog bounded back over to him with his head held high in the air looking the perfect picture of smug.

“Yes, all right, very good. Thank you for saving my stupid ass,” he muttered.

The dog huffed and turned his head away.

Anders sighed. Mabari were far too smart for their own good.

“I’m sorry I said I wasn’t your owner and wouldn’t ever be… You’re a very nice dog?”

The dog’s ears pricked a little but he kept his head facing away from him.

“Would a belly rub make it better?”

The dog whipped his head around, tongue hanging out of his mouth excitedly and let out a small bark.

Anders smirked as the dog flopped onto the sand and revealed his belly; Anders crouched down with him and gave him a good rub. “Who’s a good boy? You are, yes you are,” he cooed.

The dog hopped back to his feet and licked up Anders’ face making him groan. “The comment on slobber still stands, you know,” he moaned as he wiped his face.

The dog danced circles around him, barking happily. “So… you wanna go play or something? Isn’t that what dogs do?”

The dog barked and started to run down the path to the beach, Anders followed after it, a big smile on his face. _What_? It was the least he could do after the hound saved his life…

* * *

 

Fenris sheathed his sword as the last of the bandits fell; Hawke had dragged them all out on one of his usual forays to the coast. The rogue was in a particularly bad mood and seemed to be looking for trouble intentionally much to the annoyance of everyone else.

“Uhm, is that Anders?” Merrill chirped, pointing down at the beach.

“Don’t be --” Fenris started

“It is!” Isabela gasped. “I barely recognised him without those feathered robes of his.”

“What in the nug-shit is he doing?” Varric muttered, a frown on his face.

Fenris narrowed his eyes at the sight of his mage in the surf. “He appears to be jumping over waves,” Fenris stated incredulously.

His mage was only in a shirt and leggings, his feet bare as he jumped over the crashing waves in the surf with a _mabari_ at his side.

They all glanced at one another and then all at once rushed down the path to hide behind some rocks, giving them a better view of the mage.

Merrill was grinning ear to ear. “He’s so cute! Look how happy he is.”

Varric snorted. “I never thought I’d see Blondie with his hair down, figuratively and literally.”

They watched the mage throwing a stick for the mabari, a massive grin plastered across his face.

“I thought he was a cat person?” Hawke asked, brow furrowing.

“Maybe Fenris here has rubbed off on him,” Isabela purred. “Maybe now he’s a dog person instead.”

“But Fenris is an elf? What’s that got to do with dogs?” Merrill blurted in confusion.

Isabela sighed. “Fenris means _little wolf_ , kitten.”

“Oh! And he’s been rubbing off on Anders because they’re --”

“Daisy!” Varric scolded.

“Oh right, sorry. We’re not supposed to know that, are we?”

Fenris groaned. His secret relationship with the mage was apparently not so secret. “How long have you all known?”

They all smirked at him. “Since the beginning,” Hawke muttered. “You’re both terrible at lying.”

Fenris snorted.

“Varric’s been writing a story about it,” Merrill commented before yelping from a dwarven elbow to her ribs. “Right, I don’t know anything about that either.”

Fenris rolled his eyes and went back to watching Anders who was chasing the hound across the sands in an attempt to get the stick back from him. He looked beautiful in just the loose shirt, his golden-red hair falling around his shoulders, it was the smile on his face though that made Fenris’ heart flutter. The mage had been so unhappy recently he had almost forgotten what such an expression looked like on the other man.

“Aww, Fenris is smiling too!” Merrill giggled. Fenris shot her a glare and her laughter ceased.

The mabari Anders was chasing suddenly came to a stop near their rocks and started barking angrily, they all ducked down so as not to be seen by the healer.

“Who’s there!?” Anders called out. “Show yourselves. I’m a mage and I have a mabari warhound!”

Fenris rolled his eyes and rose to his feet. “Do you often blurt that you are a mage to your enemies?”

“Haven’t you heard him shouting _I’ll show you why mages are feared_ like every fight?” Isabela drawled.

They all stood up and Anders stared at them in shock. “What are you all doing here!?”

“That’s my fault. I wanted to kill stuff,” Hawke chuckled. “Although watching you in the surf was _much_ more entertaining.”

Anders blushed. “How long have you been watching?”

“Long enough, Blondie,” Varric mused, a grin on his face. Anders rubbed his flushed face.

“How did you get a dog?” Merrill asked, moving forward to pet the mabari.

“He sort of… followed me,” Anders explained.

Fenris folded his arms. “You are not keeping him,” he stated firmly.

“What, why not? I quite like him,” Anders groused.

“Because he will get hair and slobber on our bed and he probably has fleas.” Anders stared at him, horrified. “They already know,” he added, motioning to his snickering companions.

“That shouldn’t be surprising,” Hawke laughed.

Anders sighed, eyes locking with Fenris’. “Well, he can sleep downstairs.”

Hawke shook his head, chuckling quietly. “Yeah… that never happens.”

“Ugh, it really doesn’t,” Isabela groaned. “I like exhibitionism as much as the next person but having big brown eyes watching you is a bit of a mood killer.”

Hawke smirked at the pirate. “So is having a wet nose stuffed up your --”

“Hawke!” Varric cried.

“What’s his name?” Merrill asked as she stroked the dog fondly.

Anders shrugged a shoulder. “I haven’t thought of one yet.”

“Doesn’t he have an owner?” Fenris enquired, moving forward to let the dog sniff his hand.

“They’re dead,” Anders answered sadly.

Hawke arched an eyebrow at the mage. “How do you know that?”

Anders blushed again. “He sort of… told me.”

“You can speak dog?” Merrill chirped excitedly. “Bark, bark, bark! What did I just say?”

“Oh Merrill,” Isabela laughed.

Anders smiled, shaking his head. “He dug up an old boot and when I asked where his master was he pointed to it, I asked if his master was dead and he barked.”

“Oh please, dogs bark all of the time,” Isabela groaned.

“No, I can confirm,” Hawke said. “They’re smart and understand us and it’s easy to understand them too.”

“Can everyone but me speak dog then?” Merrill moaned.

“Don’t worry, Daisy, I can’t either.”

Anders grinned as he picked up the stick and waved it around for the dog who started to bark and wag its tail. “I think I’ll call him Lord Barkley-waggy-tails.”

They all groaned.

Fenris rubbed his face. “I had forgotten you always name your pets’ ridiculous things.”

Anders pouted. “Mr Wiggums and Ser-Pounce-a-lot were _not_ ridiculous,” he argued.

Fenris arched a sceptical brow. “You wanted to name the mouse you found the other day Mrs Longtooth Pinkears the third.”

“Because she was the _third_ mouse I had seen in that run down mansion of yours!”

“It is not the _third_ part I take issue with,” Fenris sighed.

Anders shuffled his feet. “So… can I keep him?”

Fenris scowled at the healer.

“Pretty please? He _did_ save my life this afternoon… there were Tal-Vashoth --”

“What?” Fenris frowned. “This is why I do not like you coming out here alone,” he growled.

“Yes, well, Lord Barkley here saved me and he has nobody else, are you really going to tell him to stay out here all on his own?” Anders and his hound were now giving him puppy eyes.

Fenris groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine! But he is _yours_ so _you_ must look after him.”

Anders grinned and rushed toward him to plant a kiss on his cheek, making Fenris blush. “Thank you, love.”

 


End file.
